All Things Must Pass

23/04/2025 - 9/05/2025

"Sunrise doesn't last all morning ... all things must pass." George Harrison's words have swirled around my head for a while now, a phrase I find being repeated in my journal several times recently as well. The somewhat harsh realities of solo travelling for months on end have began to manifest in this latest portion of my journey. However, my life, and I'm sure everyone else's, regardless of whether travelling or not, is filled with the whole spectrum of human emotion, something I was certainly cognisant of in anticipation of my trip. Exhaustion, anxiety, sadness, loneliness have been mixed with awe, joy, fulfillment and exhilaration while travelling through the place they call Italia. A part of my journey I will not readily forget. I divulge (most) of it here. Strap in. 

Dearest readers of Callum's rambling blog posts, I last left you in Slovakia following a reunion with my fellow alley cat, Fintan, in Budapest. A new experience followed this, where I took the overnight train from Vienna, for the 15 hour train to the cradle of western civilisation, the place top of my bucket list, the eternal city: Rome. The overnight train was surprisingly comfortable and I slept really well. This was aided by a few beers and City beating Aston Villa with a last minute winner. Arriving in Rome after a couple hours delay, I dropped my bag off at the hostel and fuelled up with my first Italian espresso, which honestly was one of the best coffees I've ever had. Italian coffee really does hit different. I began my exploration of the ancient city with history at every turn. I was in my element, soaking it all up. Jaw-scraping across the floor, I marveled at the perfectly spherical dome of the Roman-built Parthenon, a deep sense of fulfilment washing over me as I finally saw a building I distinctly remember writing about at school. Unfortunately the Pope had just died so Rome was rather packed. Nonetheless, the next day was filled with sculpture, architecture and ruins, as well as a surprise message from a Canadian mate, Blake, who I'd met in Barcelona, saying he was in Rome too. We arranged to meet for dinner and some drinks, which turned into a few more drinks than anticipated back at his hostel bar. It was here that I introduced myself as a kiwi to a girl from Chicago, DD, who then produced possibly the best NZ accent I've heard from a non-native. She later divulged she had a poster of Mitre Peak on her bedroom wall, very strange. Surprising her with my knowledge of the Chicago Bulls' roster, and clearly charming her with my accent and good looks, we got on well the rest of the night. After indulging in some more nerdy Roman historical study at the Ara Pacis alone the next day, it transpired that DD was staying in Rome longer than expected, so we arranged to hang out at a park overlooking the city that evening. I made the mistake of buying screw-top beers, so naturally I elegantly sprayed beer all over myself several times using one bottle to open another. Somehow this did not scare her off. Finding out her music taste was exceptional (George Harrison, Stone Roses, Velvet Underground, amongst others) and hearing her really good accents, it was a very enjoyable evening watching the sunset over the Vatican. We parted ways, planning to meet in Florence in a week or so, where she was finishing her semester abroad. My remaining time in Rome was filled with more historical tourism, as well as another surprise reconnection with Andrew from Brisbane, another long-term solo traveller, who I had previously met in both Madrid and Lisbon. We spent a great day together, sharing war stories of travel flings, difficulties and challenges in our journeys. Coming off the high of spending time with DD, it was welcomed by me to navigate the tricky emotions that were to become unfortunately frequent in the coming weeks. 

A city like no other I had visited welcomed me following Rome, the home of pizza, Napoli. Filled with steep, winding streets, with no footpaths, and scooters flying around corners beeping at you, the chaos of Napoli was in a similar vein to what I have experienced in South East Asia, albeit not quite as hectic. It was during the journey to Napoli and subsequently arriving at the hostel that the exhaustion of my two months plus of travelling seemed to hit like a ton of bricks. The exhaustion exhibited itself through twinges of anxiety as well as homesickness. Fortunately, chatting with two English girls at the hostel and going for Neapolitan pizza with them alleviated this. Pompei was on the agenda for the following day, which in all honesty was slightly underwhelming, given I had already visited Ostia Antica, a similar, semi-preserved Roman city. A relaxing afternoon and evening on my own reading was needed ahead of my half-day of travel to the city of canals the following day, Venice. 

I arrived in Venice Mestre in the afternoon and dropped my bags off to my hostel on the mainland, across from the archipelago of Venice itself. A quick 15 minute train and I stepped out into the beautiful madness of the floating city. Battling through hordes of ignorant, oblivious tourists, I managed to find a peaceful area, where I admired the sun going down over the numerous little canals and bridges. Treating myself to a fancy dinner of seafood pasta, tiramisu and a glass of Italian red, I looked across at the empty seat across the table from me. I have had many an instance of dining alone on this trip, and while it is something I enjoy, I've found myself looking at the empty chair across from me and pondering who will be the person to fill this "seat" in my life. The answer, of course, remains a mystery. Turning to a love already present in my life, I watched a cracking football game, Barcelona v Inter Milan in the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, a 3-3 draw. That Lamine Yamal kid really is something. The following day I walked and walked around Venice taking in the sights, smells and scenes. It really is a fantastic place albeit extremely crowded. I made some friends at the hostel bar that night, Hugo and Harry from Bath, and we arranged to meet up again the next evening for dinner (and more drinks). A journey to the other end of the city to see the Venezia FC stadium was interspersed with reading and espresso in the shady, quiet spots I could find. An evening with the Bath lads was filled with some decent food, a couple (well, a few) drinks and an underwhelming City game, but still a win. 

Hugo and Harry were also on their way to Milan the next day and I suggested they tag along with me to the Inter Milan v Verona game I had a ticket for at the San Siro. Taking two trains the next day, we arrived in the fashion capital of the world, looking noticeably more scruffy than the rest of the population. Making use of cheap coffee and a guitar at the hostel we chilled for a few hours before taking in the sights of Milan. The famous San Siro called in the evening and we joined thousands dressed in blue and black stripes on the metro. The game itself was pretty unmemorable, a 1-0 win to Inter, with the only goal being a VAR-ed penalty in the 8th minute. However, the experience of being at the massive San Siro was worth the price of admission, as was the chance to tick off seeing a Serie A game. I was to head to Florence the next day, and I will admit during my time in Venice and Milan, the prospect of seeing DD caused a weird mix of excitement and anxiety to bubble away inside me.

Not knowing how long I would stay in Florence, I booked one night at pretty average hostel where I endured two English sisters adamantly tell me that ghosts were real and that the hostel was haunted. A quiet evening (with no signs of ghosts) was had and I decided to get an apartment for the next two nights, needing my own space and some downtime after a hectic few weeks in hostels. While I have been enjoying the hostel lifestyle, it does get rather draining being around people from the moment you wake up. After a nightmare navigating the rain and poor instructions from the apartment owner, I had a much needed call with my family and had a relaxed afternoon. DD and I arranged to see each other that evening with me cooking up a CM speciality: pesto pasta. Determining this was the easiest to do in a very poorly stocked and arranged kitchen, I got in a some needed steps for the day grabbing ingredients from a few supermarkets. It was really great to see DD, as well as cook for someone again, it's something I find really fulfilling. While I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation and company from DD, a thought was sitting at the back of my mind during the evening; this is going to be a difficult inevitable goodbye in a few days. This combination of both positive and negative emotions continued to impact me the next day, however, I would have been very uncultured to not have appreciated the beauty of the city at the heart of the Renaissance. The Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore was, I can comfortably say, the most impressive building I have ever seen in my life. Not only did it's massive brick dome, 30 stories high, with the ceiling painted, a la Sistine Chapel, blow me away, but it's facade with probably 50 plus sculptures carved into the building along with numerous detailed Corinthian columns was mind-blowingly intricate and ornate. Exploring the streets of Florence next day, I drank coffee, read and journaled before receiving a text from DD asking if I wanted to come out with her friends that evening for a drink to celebrate her birthday. Feeling pretty excited to see her again, I had some leftover pasta for dinner (good money-saver in a touristy city) and went to an Irish pub to watch the second leg of the Inter v Barcelona tie, again another cracking game. Forza Inter. I hung out with DD and her friends for a bit afterwards, but I was extremely conscious this was likely to be the last time spent with her. In the end, I was correct. Another day filled with art and architecture followed, with the aforementioned "tricky" emotions swirling around again. I took myself out for a nice dinner of wild boar pasta, a Tuscan speciality, and ended up chatting to an older American couple who were adamant that I help them eat their starters as they had too much. Being a backpacker on a budget, I happily obliged. I left Florence the next day, knowing I needed to turn the page and start a new chapter on my journey, but not quite feeling ready to do so. However, all things must pass. 

The port city of Genova welcomed me following my stint in Florence after a few mishaps with the Italian trains. Fortunately, I don't really mind sitting on trains, headphones on, eyes looking out the window, mind wandering. I visited the famous Cinque Terre during the couple days in Genova, a collection of five towns perched on the cliffs overlooking the Med. It did wonders for my brain being out in nature, surrounded by green and ocean, a good reminder of Aotearoa. There were more than a couple of people around, however, so that aspect was not as enjoyable. I still managed an extremely picturesque, quiet lunch overlooking the cliffs and sea in Corniglia before taking the train back to Genova. A free dinner from the hostel balanced out the ledger after a rather pricey lunch as well as some good conversations from others in the hostel. I even practiced some of my terrible French with a girl from Bordeaux, which she was delighted by. Apparently my pronunciation is great! My vocab and sentence structure definitely needs some work though. Perhaps a chance to practice a bit in my next destination, Switzerland.

Well, we started with George Harrison's words that all things must pass, and we'll end with a question from Bob Dylan: "How does feel to be on your own, with no direction home, a complete unknown, like a rolling stone?" The answer: it feels difficult, it feels lonely, it feels anxiety-inducing but ultimately this is the greatest and most fulfilling experience of my life. Let it roll.